


lockless door

by sinequanon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9527960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinequanon/pseuds/sinequanon
Summary: When Elijah is captured by a witch intent on killing him, he makes an unlikely wish.Evidently, someone hears him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, this fic is pretty pointless. I don't remember if I wanted to write a Lydia/Stiles fic and Elijah showed up, or if I had planned on writing an Elijah/Stiles fic and Lydia showed up. Either scenario is possible. This is the result, regardless.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Poor, noble Elijah,” the witch sighed. “All alone, with no one come to find him.”

Had the vampire been at normal strength, he could have easily overpowered the woman. Unfortunately, he had underestimated a certain enemy's desire for revenge, which somehow led to his immobility and incarceration in what closely resembled a backwoods hut with this appalling woman.

“What exactly do you plan to do?”

“Me?” she asked, all wide-eyed faux-innocence, “I've done nothing, save give you that mark,” she said, gesturing at a symbol inked into the back of his hand. “If Niklaus could pull himself away from his plotting for five minutes, he could easily find you.” She patted his cheek in a mockery of affection.

Sadly, she wasn't wrong. They all loved each other, but--with the exception of Freya--they were all quite willing to push each other aside to further their own agendas. Considering the trouble Niklaus had been having with Hayley over the past few weeks, and the fact that he, Rebekah, and Kol had all sided against him on the issue, it meant that the four of them had been avoiding each other over the past few days. Even Freya had mostly given up mediating, and had elected to take Hope away for the week in the hopes that the rest of them settled things in the interim.

“You never answered my question,” he pushed, “what do you intend to do with me?”

She smiled. “It's fascinating, don't you think, that your family is so much more powerful than the rest of them?” She traced the pattern across his hand, and he shuddered at the touch. “I'm going to drain you, use you up; you're so much stronger than most. I consider myself quite fortunate, you know, to be able to spend time with you.”

The next few days were monotonous and exhausting, and Elijah began to question whether anyone had noticed his absence and wonder how much longer he would be forced to endure this witch’s ministrations. He wasn't sure how many times the woman had taken his hand--one dozen, two dozen--but his last thought before his consciousness faded once again was a wish.

_I wish there was someone who cared enough to find me._

<> <>

Elijah came awake slowly. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting the witch to know he was aware and deign to begin torturing him yet again. He spent the next long while simply breathing and trying to enjoy his brief respite from the witch’s tortures, which was why it took him longer than it probably should have to realize that something was different. It was too quiet, and the cloying scent of lavender--which was all too pervasive in the witch’s home--was gone, replaced by the subtle scents of roses and rain. It was startling enough that Elijah’s eyes opened automatically, and a quick glance around confirmed that his circumstances had definitely changed while he was unconscious.

Whether those circumstances had changed for the better was yet to be seen. After all, he had been in most of the hotels in New Orleans (generally in search of one shady character or another) and he didn't recognize this one. Whether the two heartbeats he could hear in the room with him belonged to friends or foes was still to be determined.

Thoughtlessly, he brought a hand up to rub his face before turning to the other bed in the room. Two young people--one man, one woman--were curled up together in the bed closest to the door, sleeping peacefully. Apparently, they had removed his bedraggled clothes and tucked him into bed, and although many people had done him favors in the hopes of reward, Elijah could see no immediate reason why these two strangers would help him.

The vampire wanted to stare at them longer, to figure out what was going on, and to decide if his two roommates remained as enchanting as they seemed at first blush, but he found his eyes closing without his permission and he was asleep again before his head touched the pillow.

<> <>

“That’s a pretty nasty hex you have on you.”

Elijah blinked up into the scrutinizing face of the young woman, unsure of how to respond. He could feel the symbol on his hand, almost like a brand, and he forced himself to remain still under her knowing gaze.

The woman seemed undeterred by the silence, and in fact brightened as Elijah watched the sunlight play against her hair. “Stiles can break it, but it's going to take some time for you to recover, even after we get blood in you.”

Elijah startled from his fascination and glanced sharply at his companion.

“We know who you are, Mr. Mikaelson,” she admitted smoothly, “even if we’re not sure how you came to us.”

Something in the young woman's voice made his first harsh question die on his tongue. For some strange reason, he found that he wanted this girl to like him, and he instinctively knew that it would not do to antagonize her so early in their acquaintance. Unwilling to have his first conversation with this enchanting creature lying down, he pushed up himself into a sitting position. “I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I don't believe we’ve met.”

“We most certainly have not,” she smirked, “but your family's reputation precedes you.” She stood, and the vampire finally focused on the room around him. This was most definitely not a place that Elijah recognized, and the young woman seemed to be in the middle of packing.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Despite what you may have heard, my family can be rather violent when one of us is threatened.” _Sometimes. When it suits them._

She smirked at him again, cocking her head like she was both sizing him up and finding him lacking. “My name is Lydia, my husband's name is Stiles, and your family can threaten us all they like.” For a moment, she stared at him with dead eyes, and Elijah felt a chill run down his spine. A blink later, she was smiling. “It makes no difference to us.”

Elijah had met many people over the years who had acted unafraid in the face of danger, and many of them had run when the tables turned and the success of their endeavors were no longer guaranteed. He had never, however, encountered anyone outside of his family who so casually dismissed his imposing presence, and Elijah suspected it had very little to do with his current appearance and everything to do with the character of the woman before him. It was irritating, but surprisingly refreshing as well. It made him curious about this woman's plans for him, as well as those of her absent beau.

“I apologize, but I'm afraid I don't understand why you have rescued me.”

“You misunderstand me, Mr. Mikaelson,” she said, pausing briefly in her work to look up at him, “Unlike you, Stiles and I have never been to New Orleans. We weren't looking for you; we _found_ you, and now we're going to keep you.”

<> <>

Stiles took one look at their guest and thrust a blood bag into his hands. “Here, you eat; I'll work on the paste so we can get out of here.”

“Excuse me?”

Just like Lydia, the man watched Elijah with a gaze that clearly communicated how unafraid he was of the vampire. He moved around the room as if everything was normal, even as he was clearly setting random spell ingredients on the bed opposite him.

“So, it's actually pretty complicated, breaking curses. I can't do it with the stuff around here,” Stiles said conversationally as he mixed things together. “I can, however, make it so she can't follow you. That's what this paste is for. I know it looks weird, and it's not going to smell great, either, but I promise that it works.”

Elijah started, and realized that he had been staring at the almost hypnotic way the man’s hands moved as he spoke. In between one blink and the next, Stiles was suddenly sitting in front of him, bowl in hand.

Stiles gave the vampire a reassuring smile, while Lydia sat on the other end of the bed, carefully watching the two of them.

“Can I see your hand, please?” At Elijah’s hesitance, he grinned. “I promise I don't bite.”

Elijah found himself smiling in response to the man’s cheeky grin; Lydia snorted and rolled her eyes. “Save the flirting for later,” she admonished them. “Right now, I just want to get out of Oklahoma. The air is too dry here.”

Before Elijah could ask how exactly he he ended up in Oklahoma, of all places, Stiles turned to Lydia.

“Let me know if you sense anything?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Do _you_?” Lydia pressed her husband. He had been the one to find the vampire on the side of the road, after all.

He shook his head, and both ignored Elijah’s puzzled look. “I honestly think that he's the reason we were brought here, so yay for having a positive premonition for once.”

Both of them focused on the vampire, then, and Elijah felt something swoop deep in his gut. He still wasn't sure what was going on, or how the three of them had come together, but he suddenly felt very secure in the knowledge that he was where he was supposed to be. He wordlessly held out his hand to Stiles when the other man asked for it, and accepted Lydia’s hand on his shoulder as Stiles gently rubbed the thick paste over his mark.

All three of them shivered at the electricity that seemed to arch through them, and Elijah shook off the overwhelming urge to pull both of them into his arms.

“So,” Stiles said after a moment, “you should take a shower. I got you some clothes. It's not a fancy suit, but it will do for now. If you stick around, I'm sure that Lydia will be more than happy to talk fashion with you.”

“Is that something that you want? For me to stay?” the vampire inquired seriously.

Lydia scoffed. “We wouldn't have gone to the trouble, otherwise. Go shower. The sooner we get to Utah, the sooner we can take care of this curse.”

“My hand--”

“Will be fine,” Stiles said simply, “because I say it will. Go.”

Elijah went.

<> <>

The next two weeks were filled with considering glances, fleeting touches, and a surprisingly fun encounter with a thunderbird that left the three of them breathlessly clutching each other in the middle of an icy river. By the time the curse was removed, Elijah felt like he understood his companions better than than he ever had his siblings, and he didn't feel the need to search for a reason when Lydia smiled at him or Stiles pulled him into a hug.

A month later, when Rebekah called him to ask him to come home, he looked at the two people sleeping next to him and told her plainly that he was already there.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the poem "The Lockless Door" by Robert Frost.
> 
> It went many years,  
> But at last came a knock,  
> And I thought of the door  
> With no lock to lock.
> 
> Next week: the final two chapters of "in perfect light" and a small Peter/Stiles fic.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
